The Answer to All Things Interesting
by lollygirl128
Summary: After months of wondering and plenty of accumulated questions, Paul finally witnesses something that prompts Sally and Percy to explain everything. And they MEAN everything. But how hard will it be to make Paul understand that they aren't lying?


The Answer to All Things Interesting

**A/N Hello! So nice of you to click on my humble story.**

**A quick note: There is Greek in here. I just used google translate, so I apologize if you speak Greek and it is awful. But I wanted something different in an over-used idea, so I make Annabeth and Percy speak it a bit. They didn't have an 'Ancient Greek' option in the languages though, so I had to make do. What they are saying is not important (as the story is in Paul's POV) to the story, so I didn't include translations. But if I were you it would bug the hell outta me to not know what they were saying, so translations are at the end.**

**Disclaimer: Totally not Rick Riordan.**

"Ouch!" Paul yelped, jumping up from his seat on the recliner in his fiancé, Sally's living room. Papers that were on Paul's lap scattered on the floor in front of him as he inspected his newest paper cut. It was no new thing, as he had been a teacher for years, but damn if they didn't hurt every time.

As soon as Paul exclaimed, his soon-to-be step-son Percy—who had been napping on the couch nearby—jumped up and put his hand, inexplicably, in his right pocket.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked, looking around the room as if searching for the evil thing that had sliced Paul's finger. He looked alert, as though he had been awake for hours and not mere seconds. That was another strange thing about Percy. Sometimes he would startle awake at the slightest creak or quietest whisper, whereas other times it would take a Macy's Day Parade in his bedroom to wake him up for school. Paul decided to ponder it later.

"Oh it's nothing Percy, just a paper cut. Sorry to wake you up," Paul reassured him, then knelt to pick up his papers. He smiled at Percy. "You can go back to sleep if you like."

Percy smiled, a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to doze off. I've just been... exhausted lately..." he trailed off, getting a contemplative and tired look in his startlingly green eyes, fingering the gray streak of hair that he had near his temple. Another few oddities about Percy.

The gray streak, which Paul had originally thought to be some kind of weird new teen trend, confused him. It was dye, it surely would be gone by now. Or it's color would fade over time before either fading completely or getting more noticeable, signaling that Percy had reapplied the dye.

But neither had happened. And honestly, Paul might not know Percy as well as he would like, but he got the feeling that Percy wasn't the kind of kid to jump onto these silly fads. Percy seemed very down to earth.

Also, it seemed to bug Percy and worry Sally. If Percy didn't like the gray, he could have gotten rid of it. And Paul knew that Percy would not do something that his mother disapproved of.

Eventually, Paul just gave up and forced himself to believe it was a genetic anomaly, even though it certainly looked like Percy's friend Annabeth had one that looked just like it.

And those eyes—which bore absolutely no resemblance to his fiancé's warm brown ones—were, for lack of a better term, strange. They changed frequently, as did hi s mood. When Paul had first met Percy, he seemed to be very happy-go-lucky. Always smiling and cracking jokes. And his eyes were as bright as emeralds, with specks of hunter green on the outer rims of his irises. But they seemed to be getting progressively darker the longer Paul knew him. Now they seemed to be more hunter, with the outer rims of his eye looking sea green.

And oh, if he got mad, those eyes might be the scariest things Paul had ever seen. Luckily Percy had only been relatively mad around Paul once, just recently.

It was late Sunday evening, and Paul was sitting at the kitchen table with his fiancé. They were keeping conversation, but he noticed Sally kept looking worriedly out the kitchen window, where it was raining. Lightning lit her face at the same time there was an earsplitting crack of thunder. Sally visibly jumped, her tight grip on her "Best Mom Ever" mug causing her to spill a bit of lukewarm coffee onto her hand and the table. She looked down at the mess and then up to Paul's slightly worried expression. She tried to grin reassuringly at him, then stood up to get some paper towels.

"I'm sorry, I just… tend to get a little jittery during storms," Sally breathed. She mopped up the mess on the table then threw out the soggy towels. She sat back down across from Paul and he took her hands. She looked at him.

"Are you worried about Percy?" Paul asked.

Percy had run off with his blonde friend Annabeth this morning before breakfast, after a tense whispered conversation between the two teens. Percy had grabbed his hoody from the coat closet and run into the kitchen to kiss his mother on the cheek, then given a vague excuse as to why he was leaving. _Camp related problem, they need help_. Understanding had flashed in Sally's eyes, and she nodded to her son, who smiled reassuringly at her and grabbed a bagel for himself, then ran from the room. Paul heard Percy's companion say _Where's mine? You think I had time to stop at Starbucks for breakfast before I came to get you?_ and then Percy was back in the kitchen with a small grin on his face as he grabbed another bagel for Annabeth. Sally smiled and yelled '_Stay safe Annabeth!' _to which she responded '_Will do Mrs. J!_'

Paul was snapped out of his reverie as Sally sighed. "Not really. I trust him, Annabeth too, I just wish they would get here soon."

Paul nodded. "What did he mean by 'camp related emergency'? It's fall, is his camp even open?"

As Paul expected, Sally got that guarded look in her eyes that she got when Paul brought up Percy's camp, or his father, or how he knows Annabeth. Usually, Paul got a non-answer, like '_that's something Percy should tell you'_ or something similar. But since Sally and he had gotten engaged, the answers had been getting more and more explanatory, but stayed vague.

"Well," Sally said, not looking at him, "it's a year round camp, but Percy only goes for the summer."

"Year round? That sounds like it could be expensive to stay open," Paul pointed out.

Sally tilted her head and looked somewhere over Paul's head. "Well, let's just say all of the campers have parents who are extremely… _influential_. They keep the camp open."

Paul furrowed his brow. "So… not to be detrimental to you, Sal, but um… does that mean that Percy's dad is… influential?"

Sally smiled, that little I-know-something-that-you-don't smile that Percy had as well. "Yeah, you could say his dad is pretty influential."

"So–" Paul was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open, then slamming shut. Sally lost her playful smile, and a worried look took over her face as she got up from her seat to go to the living room. Paul followed, but didn't enter the room when he saw what was in there.

Laying on the couch was Annabeth, with blood soaking through her orange t-shirt. She looked to be conscious, but she had her eyes clenched shut in pain as Percy, who was kneeling in front of the couch, started to lift her shirt to assess the damage.

"Oh my God, Sally, should I call for an ambu-"

"No!" said Sally and Percy at the same time. Percy continued to carefully lift the shirt, but Sally walked toward Paul with an almost pleading look on her face.

"Paul, I know this doesn't look good, but believe me, they know what to do. I have to help Percy, but can you get me the first aid kit from the cabinet beneath the sink?" she pleaded.

Paul nodded, glad to help, and ran to get the kit from beneath the sink. As he grabbed it and ran though, he wondered how long this new kit had been there, and why they weren't using the one from on top of the fridge.

Paul handed the box to Sally, who was sitting next to Percy on the floor. He looked to see what Percy was doing now that the shirt was folded over her chest to expose the wound, but almost gagged. There were three long gashes, stretching from her right ribs to her left hip.

"Ah, gods, Seaweed Brain, get it out already!" Annabeth growled through clenched teeth. Her hands were in tight fists, one holding her shirt up on her chest, the other wrapped around Percy's arm.

"I've almost got it, Annabeth, but it would be a lot easier if I could feel my left hand," Percy murmured distractedly as he used tweezers to dig into the deepest gash, trying to grab something that looked to be lodged in there.

"Fine," Annabeth snapped, and released his arm. As she did so, though, she noticed how banged up Percy seemed to be as well. "Holy gods, Percy, you need fixed up too!"

Then Paul got a good look at Percy as well. He had cuts and scrapes all over his back, chest and neck, blood showing thought the holes in his clothes. He had a nasty bruise on his forehead and a cut on his jaw, but the arm Annabeth had been clutching looked horrible, a deep gash running from his elbow to his wrist. He glared at Annabeth for pointing out his injuries (which would only worry his mother) and shook his arm away from her.

"They're just scratches, Annabeth. Nothing I can't handle." He finally removed whatever had been in Annabeth's abdomen and put it to the side. It looked like a… dog claw? Or maybe a crooked pencil. Whatever it was, it was like Paul couldn't make himself focus on it. He looked back at the two teenagers.

"-then so is this," Annabeth finished whatever she had been saying while Paul wasn't listening. She was gesturing to her injury.

Percy didn't listen to her, instead grabbing what Sally was offering to him. It was a canteen of something. Percy unscrewed the lid then—confusingly— drizzled it onto the wound. Paul once again wasn't able to focus on the wound, but from looking at Annabeth's face, it was doing something good. Her face relaxed, a sigh escaping her lips. Then Percy poured some of the liquid from the canteen into her mouth. She swallowed it, then attempted to sit up. Percy shoved her back down.

"Excuse me, Wise Girl, I'm not done," he said, taking something else from his mother's hand. Lemon squares? He took a chunk of one from the proffered baggy and shoved it into Annabeth's mouth. She looked insulted at first, but then chewed it and swallowed it as well.

Percy then took the gauze from his mother's hand and began to unroll it. Annabeth sat up and allowed him to wrap it around her torso several times before starting the argument back up.

"Ok, I'm all taken care of. Now…" she grabbed his shoulder and with strength no one who had been that injured should have, she spun him around so that they switched places, him sitting on the couch and her sitting in front of it. "Your turn."

"Ιερά Ποσειδώνα, σας δαίμονα!" Percy exclaimed, and Annabeth shoved another lemon square in his face. Paul did a double take. That… was certainly not English. Then he noticed that the two were having a completely non-english conversation.

"Τηλεφώνησέ μου ένας δαίμονας και πάλι, και θα το μετανιώσετε." Annabeth responded, eyebrows raised. Percy scowled, then looked away. He looked angry, even though from the tones of their voices Paul was pretty sure they were just teasing each other in whatever language that was.

Annabeth noticed it too. There was silence for a few minutes while the two teens nibbled the lemon bars and sipped from the canteen, but Percy never dropped his scowl. "Seaweed Brain, what's wrong?"

Percy looked at Annabeth, with a sarcastic look on his face. "Gee, I don't know Annabeth, what could it be? Surely not that you almost DIED JUST NOW!"

The occupants of the living room flinched at his raised voice, but Annabeth wasn't about to let him win.

"You know for a fact that I've had plenty worse."

"That doesn't make it right. If you had put on the hat when I asked you to, that wouldn't've happened!"

"It wouldn't have happened to me, it would have happened to you! Do you seriously think I would have taken the coward's way out?"

"You were already injured, and I had a good angle, I could've gotten it from there!"

"Do you think I'm stupid?! I was injured, not blind! If I hadn't distracted him, he could have easily killed you!"

"If you hadn't distracted it, we wouldn't be in this situation right now!"

"Yeah, BECAUSE YOU'D BE _DEAD_, SEAWEED BRAIN!"

As they argued, Sally and Paul watched like it was a tennis match. Paul would have broken it up, but he was trying to understand what they were even arguing about. A hat? How would a hat have saved Annabeth? And the longer the argument went on, the less this sounded like a regular New York attack. This wasn't a stray dog, or a mugger, or anything else Paul could think of. But then… what was it?

"Alright, enough!" Sally finally yelled, causing both teens to look at her. Annabeth's eyes were penetrating, cold, and stormy at the same time. They were a slivery-gray, and appeared to be swirling like a storm cloud. Percy's were even scarier, with their different colors of green clashing and swirling, with specks of dark gray and greenish-blue mixing in occasionally. It looked like a birds eye view of a class 5 hurricane. And if Paul were honest, both sets of eyes terrified him.

"Neither of you is in good enough shape to be arguing like this. Besides, after the last incident, we decided to control our tempers, did we not?" Sally's voice was eerily calm. Both teens looked ashamed of themselves for upsetting the always calm Sally Jackson. And what was this last incident?

Suddenly, Paul noticed that the window behind him was open and that the storm outside was bigger than earlier. Paul was certain the window hadn't been open before.

"Percy, window," Annabeth muttered, looking at the floor. Percy looked past Paul and seemed to notice it as well.

"Oh," Percy said and went to close it, as if he had opened it. But that didn't make sense, he had been in Paul's sight the whole time. It was probably just the storm that had opened it. But the storm was definitely stronger than it was before, and seemed to be winding down again, until finally it was no stronger than it had been before Percy and Annabeth had stumbled inside.

"Now," Sally continued when Percy was standing next to the couch again. "you two need to rest. Annabeth, I'll make you a spot in Percy's room, if you like?"

Annabeth gave a small smile. "Thanks for the offer, but no. I need to get back to camp and explain everything. Thanks for your help guys," she said and looked up at Percy. His eyes were still stormy, but he looked calmer. He met her gaze. "I mean it."

Percy nodded. "You're welcome. Any time. Thanks for yours, too," he muttered.

Annabeth nodded. "Any time. See ya Mrs. J, nice to meet you Mr. Blowfish," she said as she walked to the door.

"It's Blofis, Annabeth, remember?" Percy told her as he grabbed the door to open it for her.

"Oh right, sorry. See ya!" and she was gone.

Percy closed the door silently and locked it, and turned to face his mother and soon-to-be step father, looking ashamed of himself. He looked at the floor as he spoke.

"I'm sorry about that, Paul. I think… tomorrow, I'll explain everything." He looked at his mom. "You'll help me, right?"

Sally smiled. "Of course. Tomorrow when I get home, we'll explain everything, Paul. And we mean _everything_. Okay?"

Paul realized he had had his mouth standing open since he saw Annabeth's injuries, and hadn't said anything since he had offered to call for an ambulance. He closed his mouth and cleared his throat. "Erm… oh…kay? That," he cleared his throat again. "That sounds good."

Sally smiled and Percy looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Then Percy spoke again.

"Ok, I'm gonna go take a shower and then pass out. See you… tomorrow, then."

That had been yesterday. All of those events had kept him up last night thinking, but he made no sense of it.

Paul jerked himself from his memories and went back to picking up his ungraded English papers.

He had finished grading about a dozen (and Percy had fallen back to sleep) when he found something he had never seen before. And believe him, he had seen some strange things written and drawn on assignments that his students didn't necessarily know were to be turned in, or the students were trying to be funny—either to him or their friends.

But he had never seen half of an assignment written in another language before.

He could tell it was Greek from his time as a history teacher. He saw signs he recognized, like the alta and omega symbols, but he was a far sight from understanding it. The strangest thing though was the smattering of English thrown in there.

It started in English, or at least pretty close to it. There were dozens of eraser marks and misspelled words, and the lines were horribly uneven. Then, in the middle of a sentence regarding Odysseus and Circe (as they were writing their essays on The Odyssey), it just changed to Greek. And flawless Greek, at that. No eraser marks, perfectly straight lines.

Paul looked at the top of the page to find the name of the student who did this. Whoever it was had put a lot of effort into this prank. But when he found the name, he gasped.

Percy Jackson.

He looked over at the sleeping teen. Then something from last night clicked in his head, making his brow furrow. Could that language that he and Annabeth were speaking have been… Greek? He'd never heard it spoken, so he supposed it was possible. But how was it possible? They didn't teach Greek at Goode, let alone for freshmen. Had he taken some online course? That didn't make sense, why would he need it? Paul never saw him practicing anyway. Sally didn't speak Greek, and she didn't have any Greek blood that he knew of. Maybe Percy did. Maybe this all went back to his father. But still… there were so many gaps.

Paul decided to wake Percy up. He shoved his shoulder, and Percy rolled off the couch. Whoops.

Percy groaned and turned his head on its side so he could see Paul. "If you wanted me to move, you could've just asked."

Paul grimaced. "Sorry, Percy, I was just trying to wake you up. Didn't mean to knock you off the furniture."

Percy smirked and pushed himself up so he was in a sitting position with his back leaning on the couch. "S'alright. What'd you need?"

Paul looked down at the paper he was holding. "Well, um, I was hoping you could explain this to me?"

Percy looked confusedly at Paul and took the paper. He scanned through it once and shook his head. "I don't… wait…" he put his face closer to the paper and groaned, closing his eyes and pushing the paper to his face. "Ω θεοί, είμαι τόσο βλάκας."

"Sorry?" Paul asked. Percy didn't seem to notice that he had slipped into another language again.

"Είπα, Ω θεοί,— crap, I just did it again, didn't I?"

Paul nodded and looked at Percy with concern. "For the second time in 24 hours. Are you ok? What does it mean?"

Percy looked evasive. "Do you mean… you want me to translate? Or that you want me to explain everything like mom and I said we would?"

"Percy, you know what he means," said a voice from the entryway. They hadn't even heard Sally come in. She appeared in the living room with an apprehensive look on her face. "Ok. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Paul took a seat at the kitchen table, Sally joining him. He expected Percy to sit across from him, but instead he paced the kitchen with a determined and anxious face. Finally he stopped and leaned with his back to the sink so he was facing Paul.

"Ok. So you used to be a history teacher, right?"

Paul frowned. "Yes. Why?"

Percy didn't answer his question. "So you know the old Greek stories, right? Gods and heroes and monsters?"

"You mean the myths?" Paul asked.

Sally and Percy winced, and Paul heard thunder in the distance, even though it hadn't rained since last night. Percy rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Yes, I know."

"Sorry?" Paul asked. He had heard what Percy said, but he didn't understand it.

Once again Percy ignored Paul. "Yeah. Some people call them that. But you know how the gods would come down and… have children with mortals? And those children would grow up to be heroes, or demi-gods?"

Paul was confused. He thought Sally and Percy were going to explain things, not… whatever this was. And why did Sally look so uncomfortable? "Yes, Percy, I know this stuff. What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm getting there. So, let's say that those gods were still around. What do you think they would be like? Would they change their behavior, or stay the same?"

Paul sighed and decided to go along with it. "Hypothetically? I'm assuming they would continue to seduce mortals, have more demi-god children, and wreak havoc in people's lives."

There was a much louder clap of thunder, to which Sally and Percy jumped. Percy stood straight up and looked at the ceiling, saying, "He's sorry, he didn't mean it, once I'm done explaining he'll understand. Please don't fry us yet."

Paul was looking at Percy like he'd grown another head. Had he lost his mind? Paul looked to Sally to see that she was looking at the ceiling fearfully as well.

"Percy… what…?" Paul asked, concerned.

"Sorry, Paul, but you should be more careful when you say things like that," Percy offered, still glancing warily upward.

"Things like what? Who are you talking to? What is going on?" Paul asked. He looked between the mother and son with confusion etched into his features.

Percy looked him straight in the eye and leaned back against the sink. "Ok, Paul. What would you say if I told you all of that stuff was real? That they'd never left, never changed, and were still around today?" His tone was soft, like he was worried he would scare Paul away.

Paul's eyebrows were raised in a confused and surprised way. "Well, I'd say that you were kidding yourself if you believed that. The Greek gods weren't even real thousands of years ago when the Greeks worshiped them, they were only myths to explain things people didn't understand. Like the sun, or how their plants grow, or why hurricanes happened."

Percy grimaced at him, not really a reaction Paul was expecting. Maybe a disappointed scowl because Paul had seen through his prank, but not a grimace.

Percy sighed. "Paul, you're wrong. They're still around, still having half mortal children, just like they were thousands of years ago. I'm proof. Perseus Jackson, demi-god, at your service." He gave a mock bow.

Paul would've thought Percy would drop this by now. So he decided to humor him. "I see. And who would your parent be?"

Percy stood a little straighter. "Poseidon. Earth-Shaker, Storm-Bringer, father of horses. God of the sea."

Paul pretended to draw his brows together in thought. "I see. And you think this… why?"

Percy crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not messing with you, Paul. You can drop the sarcasm act. I'm being completely serious."

Paul let out a small laugh. "Percy please, at least have a plausible story! When you're ready to talk about what we came in here to talk about, I'm all ears."

Percy slammed both palms on the sink behind him and started to pace again, one hand messing up his already tousled hair and the other hand on his hip. He stopped walking again after only a few steps and looked pleadingly at his mother. "Mom! You've got to help me!"

Sally looked to Paul with love in her eyes. "Paul, honey, listen to him. He's telling the truth. He's trying to explain all the strange things that happen around here."

Paul laughed again. "You're in on this too? You guys can drop it, it's not gonna work!"

Percy went back to leaning on the sink, his hands rubbing his temples as if to ward off a headache. "Ok, Paul, what will it take to make you believe me?"

"_Proof_, Percy!"

"Percy," Sally said in a soft tone, "why don't you get Paul a glass of _water_?"

Percy's eyes lit up. "You know, that's a great idea mom. I'll do that."

Percy opened the cabinet that held cups and got out a tall glass. He then placed it in front of Paul, completely empty.

"Um…" Paul began.

"Ah ah, I'm not done," Percy told him with a smirk. Paul looked to his fiancé, but she was watching Percy with what Paul could only describe as confidence.

Percy walked back to the sink and turned it on to a steady stream. "Now," Percy said, "watch carefully."

Percy raised his hand and pointed it at the stream. Suddenly, the water stopped hitting the bottom of the sink, but began to accumulate in a shapeless blob, suspended by… nothing.

When the blob was roughly the size of two fists, Percy shut off the faucet with the hand that wasn't outstretched toward the water. Then he pointed the other hand at the blob and raised both hands in a lifting motion. It obliged, rising out of the sink and moving steadily toward the cup. Percy gracefully poured the liquid into the cup as if from a pitcher, then dropped his hands to the side.

"Explain that," Percy instructed Paul, a satisfied grin on his face.

Paul gawped at his cup, then at his fiancé who was absolutely beaming at her son. Then he looked to the teen, who was looking at Paul expectantly.

Paul opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water for a few seconds before putting his head in his hand and staring at his cup. "I-I… I have… no explanation for that."

Percy pulled out the chair across from Paul and sat, leaning on his forearms and meeting Paul's eye. "I gave you the explanation, Paul. We are not messing with you. I _know_ how hard this is to believe, trust me."

Paul was grasping at straws. "But how? You expect me to believe that-that… that Apollo pulls the sun across the sky in a golden chariot? A-and, winter happens because Demeter misses her daughter? And your 'dad' is a grumpy old hermit?"

Percy adopted an indignant face. "Hey! I take offense to that! First of all, Apollo has upgraded his chariot to a sports car. It changes when he needs it to. I've ridden in it, and my friend Thalia has driven it. Second, Demeter has gotten over that whole thing. She just allows winter so she doesn't freak any mortals out. And my dad is NOT a grumpy hermit! Hades, you met him on my birthday!"

Paul's face went from disbelief and incredulity to confusion. "I met Hades at your party?"

Percy stared at Paul for a second. "What?"

Sally intervened. "No honey, that's just something demi-gods say, instead of… other words that I would not approve of." She shot a disapproving glare at her son, who managed to look ashamed.

Meanwhile Paul was just trying to stay above water—no pun intended. They had promised answers, and he was sure he would feel enlightened afterwards.

Not the case.

"So," Paul began again, "What about the Greek?"

"You mean why can I read, write, understand and speak it so fluently?" he waited for Paul to nod slowly. "Because that's what my brain is programmed to read. That's why I have dyslexia. I was tired when I wrote that report for your class, I guess my mind just gave up on English went to its default language. And my ADHD is to keep me active on the battlefield."

"B-battlefield?" Paul spluttered.

"Yeah. The gods and the demi-gods are real, and so are the evil things. Like monsters, and evil titans. I have a sword to protect myself." he patted his pocket.

Paul frowned. "It fits in there?"

Percy grinned. "Magic is a wonderful thing."

Percy put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen. He set it on the table in front of him, and Paul raised his eyebrows.

Percy smiled again and picked up the pen. He stood up and backed up into the kitchen so nothing was within arms reach. Then he uncapped his pen, and it elongated into a… yardstick?

"Um," Paul began, "so you defend yourself with a yardstick? Is that, um, particularly effective?"

"What? Oh I forgot about the Mist!" Percy recapped his yardstick and it shrank back to its original size. He placed it on the table again. "I should have explained that first. See, the Mist is what keeps regular mortals, like yourself, from seeing things like hellhounds the size of school buses or celestial bronze swords or other magical things. You know my half brother Tyson?" Paul nodded. "He's a cyclops. But you've never noticed because of the Mist. Mom can see through the Mist, so she can see everything I can see."

"Well almost everything," Sally interjected. "It used to be a lot better than it is now."

"So…" Paul began, suddenly not so opposed to this new idea of magical and mythological things, "Last night when I couldn't look straight at things, like whatever you took out of Annabeth's wound, was that the Mist?"

Percy smiled and nodded. He was glad he was finally not trying to disprove everything he said. "Yeah. Last night happened because there were a few dracaenae harassing some nymphs in Central Park, and the satyrs requested demi-god backup. That's where Annabeth and I got all of our cuts and scrapes, but on the way home we had our guard down and got attacked by a hellhound in a side alley."

"And… the thing you pulled out of her stomach?"

"A claw. Luckily they aren't poisonous."

"Ok. Well how are you both healed now already? I mean, Annabeth shouldn't have been able to walk away from here last night."

Percy winced at his wording. It was obvious he still wasn't completely over the whole 'hat' incident, whatever that was. "Nectar and ambrosia. Food and drink of the gods. Demi-gods can eat and drink them in small amounts, but too much and it'll literally burn us up. It heals us. Mortals can't have it though, one drop or crumb and they'll be ashes."

"We keep it in that kit I asked you to grab last night, Paul. That's why I asked you to grab that one instead of the regular one," Sally added.

Paul couldn't believe he was thinking this, but he was actually starting to believe them. It was making sense, clearing up gaps that Paul had wanted filled. "Ok… does that gray streak in your hair have anything to do with this? Does it run in the… godly side of your family or something?"

Percy grimaced and stroked the hair absentmindedly. "No, actually. Annabeth and I are the only ones that have it. It came from… severe stress and exhaustion. We're lucky this is all we walked away with."

Paul was intrigued. "Care to elaborate?"

Percy sighed. "A little more than a year ago, Annabeth was missing, along with Artemis. I-"

"Wait, Artemis? Like the goddess of the moon?" Paul interrupted.

Percy nodded. "And the maiden goddess of archery, young girls, and the hunt. She has a pack of immortal girls between the ages of about 10 to 15 called the Hunters of Artemis who help her hunt down monsters. They all have to swear to never fall for a boy, because love is 'distracting'. None of them really like being within a mile radius of a male, and Artemis tends to turn men into antelopes if they offend her."

Paul nodded, his interest piqued. "Ok. So you were saying?"

"They had been kidnapped by a guy called the General, who was actually Atlas. So I sneaked along on a quest to find them, and long story short, Annabeth and I both ended up holding the sky up. Immense stress and exhaustion lead to us both turning gray early." Percy tried for a lighthearted smile, but the memory of that pain made his body ache just thinking about it.

Paul felt like he would probably be speechless if not for the unanswered questions he still had that he wanted answered. "And what about last night after you and Annabeth fought, when the window opened? Was that you?"

Percy shifted in his seat. "Yeah, that was me. Sometimes if I get angry things related to my father's domain will happen. He brings storms, so since one was already happening, I sort of... made it worse. Lucky it was that and not an earthquake or a mini hurricane, like with what happened when... never mind."

"Ok," Paul nodded. "Can you explain the hat?"

Percy smiled and nodded, and explained Annabeth's invisibility hat, then went on to answer all of Paul's questions regarding everything from Iris Messages, to why the gods were on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building, to a watered-down version of the threat that the Titans posed. Now that Paul was fairly certain that this wasn't some terribly elaborate and well-thought-out scheme, he doubted he was going to run out of questions any time soon. With every answer Percy provided, it seemed like questions that Paul had had since childhood were being answered. He finally felt like there wasn't a thick curtain of secrets separating him from his family, and he finally felt enlightened. This new world was just so..._interesting._

**A/N: So! There's that. I'm sorry if I rambled, its just that some people totally glance over Percy's explanation of everything and I _hate _that, so I may or may not have overcompensated a bit. Please, _please _leave a review, I adore constructive criticism. And as this is my first (hopefully of many) fanfic, so I could use all the help/advice/criticism I can get.**

**As promised, my Greek translations:**

**Ιερά Ποσειδώνα, σας δαίμονα!= Holy Poseidon, you demon! (after Annabeth flips Percy around to the couch)**

**Τηλεφώνησέ μου ένας δαίμονας και πάλι, και θα το μετανιώσετε.= Call me a demon again, and you will regret it. (in response to Percy's 'demon' comment)**

**Ω θεοί, είμαι τόσο βλάκας.= Oh gods, I'm such an idiot (when Percy realizes he wrote in Greek)**

**Είπα, Ω θεοί,= I said, Oh gods- (when he realizes he's still speaking Greek)**

**You know you want to review...**


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